


Anything you can do

by LiveOakWithMoss



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 1) Needling Turgon 2) there is no 2., And Argon likes chewing things, Babysitting, Competition, Curufin's list of co-benefits to babysitting along with his cousin:, Gen, Humor, Princes of the Noldor being catty teenagers, Snark, Turgon doesn't have time for your shit, Years of the Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:43:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4736447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I can do better.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything you can do

**Author's Note:**

> 0\. A birthday gift for alackofghosts, whose art made me consider Turgon and Curufin interacting, a notion that had never occurred to me before. And now amuses me greatly.

Curufinwë rested his hand on his chin and eyed his cousin. “That’s not how you hold one of those.”

“Shut up.”

“Add rudeness to the list of qualities possessed by the House of Nolofinwë.” Curufinwë hummed and drummed his fingers against his cheek. “Oh look, it’s escaping.”

“Stop calling my little brother an it! And he’s not – oh, _damn_.”

Curufinwë carefully moved his feet out of the way as Arakáno, having wiggled free of Turukáno’s grasp and dropped to the floor, gave a crow of delight and took off across the room. Turukáno, despite being famously long-legged, had a surprisingly difficult time retrieving him, and while Curufinwë waited placidly for them to return he turned his attention back to the book he’d been perusing.

“What about you?” Turukáno was back, flushed and rumpled, clutching a squirming Arakáno to his chest. Arakáno was making loud whining noises and had a fistful of Turukáno’s hair. “Where are _your_ charges? You don’t seem to be a very vigilant guardian.”

“They’re fine,” said Curufinwë, lazily turning a page of his book.

Turukáno craned his head, wincing as Arakáno latched onto another fistful of his hair and pulled himself up by it so the two of them were face to face. Turukáno craned to look around his brother. “I don’t even see them anywhere.”

“I told them there was buried treasure in the garden.”

“So they’re out there digging everything up.”

“No, of course not, my mother would kill me. I told them I didn’t know where _exactly_ it was, but that if they held very quiet, and listened very carefully, they would hear the distinct noise of the treasure singing. So they’re creeping around on their hands and knees, holding their ears to the ground. I told them if the treasure sensed it was being hunted for, it would stop singing, so they need to be very, very careful.” Curufinwë laid a bookmark between the pages of his book. “Children are so credulous.” He tossed his head in a worldly way, and Turukáno rolled his eyes.

“Findaráto was right,” he said, disentangling himself from Arakáno’s sticky grasp.

“About what?” said Curufinwë sharply.

“You are alarmingly smart, surprisingly imaginative, and very, very odd. And probably shouldn’t be trusted with children.”

“Findaráto thinks I shouldn’t be trusted with children?”

“No, that part I inferred myself.”

Curufinwë curled his lip. “Of the two of us, which is covered in drool and has a brat dangling from his braids, and which of us is enjoying a peaceful afternoon?”

“Well, for one – _ouch_ , Arko! Oh, ew.” Turukáno groaned as one of Arakáno’s flailing fists hit him in the ear and then recoiled as his youngest brother latched his mouth over Turukáno’s nose. “Nooo. Get _off_.” He pulled Arakáno away and scrubbed at his nose in disgust while Curufinwë chuckled.

“I’ll take that as your answer,” he said sweetly. “I am apparently the superior child minder, as I am superior to you in _so many things,_ though it is, of course, a waste of my time and talents.”

“Everything has to be a contest with you, doesn’t it,” muttered Turukáno, settling Arakáno on his lap and bouncing him distractedly. “If we’re racking up points in this competition, then I would like to point out that my charge is far younger and therefore needier than those scrawny brats of yours.”

“But there are two of them. Double the responsibility.”

“If your time and talents are so valuable, why are you the one watching them instead of one of your brothers?”

Curufinwë looked briefly peeved. “An oversight, clearly. Nelyo is with grandfather, Makalaurë is at the coast studying at the academy, Turko is…I don’t know, drenched in blood somewhere, and Moryo shouldn’t be trusted with breakable things such as children. So of course I am the one my parents turn to.” He tossed his head again, such a brief and unintentionally childish gesture that Turukáno couldn’t help but grin.

“Oh, of course.”

“I am glad your family has clearly determined where _your_ talents lie.” Curufinwë smirked at him. “As a spittle rag and teething toy.”

“Oh, Arakáno has his teeth already,” said Turukáno sedately. “Want to see?” He set Arakáno on the ground and crouched down next to him, pointing. “Look at cousin Curvo, Arko. He wants you to go say hello! Also I hear his clothes are made of sugar! Go try them!”

“What? No, get it away!” Curufinwë gave a cry of disgust as Arakáno scrambled happily across the room, grabbed a handful of Curufinwë’s robes and began stuffing them into his mouth. “Do you know how expensive – the embroidery on the hem alone – ”

“Just use your superior child-watching skills on him,” said Turukáno cheerfully, and leaned up against the windowsill, looking out into the garden. “Oh, and speaking of, there is a pit the size of a man in your mother’s rose garden, and one of the twins seems to have vanished. The other is visible, but he appears to be leaking dirt from one ear. What, don’t run off!” he called, suppressing a laugh as Curufinwë cursed and dashed from the room. “I was hoping to hear you tell me other ways in which you are better at – ah, well, he’s gone.” He knelt down and picked up Arakáno who was chortling and drooling, Curufinwë’s book clutched in one hand. “Don’t tell anyone,” he murmured into Arakáno’s small ear, “but you’re well on your way to establishing yourself as my favorite family member.”

From outside came the sound of Curufinwë yelling at the top of his voice before getting cut off very abruptly, almost as if a clot of dirt had caught him in the mouth. Turukáno hummed and rocked Arakáno in his arms. “And that sound is that of my ever superior cousin. He is better than us at everything, don’t forget. Yes, it’s true. I wonder how good he is at picking dirt out of his teeth? Let’s go check.”

And still humming, Turukáno strode out into the garden.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I tend to assume that Turgon and Curufin, being close together in age, would have been not so subtly in competition with each other since they were born. (Feanor: 'MINE is walking already. He's developmentally advanced. Is yours?' Fingolfin: 'It's not a compe - HAH Turno's block tower is taller. Beat that.') I also think that this competition would continue up to and including them having children of their own...


End file.
